Drabbles
by dalekchung
Summary: A collection of drabble-like works—that are not necessarily connected—about anything Alex Rider. (Currently taking requests)
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Alex Rider.**

Drabble 01

* * *

Ian Rider was a man who liked challenges. He liked to put himself through the extreme just to feel the heart-stopping terror and the relief of escaping once again. He was not invincible by any means, no, but was often considered so, along with his brother, John.

Ian had just arrived to the Royal and General Bank after a long and tiring mission as an undercover banker in Italy with one of the less important SCORPIA members. He couldn't wait to get home and relax in a nice, hot bath.

He frowned, cursing inwardly as he remembered that John and Helen had boarded their plane to France merely a half and hour ago. Alex, their nephew had to stay behind because of an unfortunate ear infection. Ian was supposed to pick him up by the end of the day from the babysitter.

He sighed in annoyance, pushing open the doors of the bank. The receptionist didn't stop him as he stalked angrily to the elevator.

It was customary for Ian to report to the Head of MI6's office after a mission, and he did so now. Placing a hand on the doorknob, his eyebrows knitted themselves together. It was locked – something that was so rare, that it had only ever happened once in his ten years with MI6.

"Agent Rider! There you are," a lanky man, dressed in a sharp, black suit tried to appear collected, but the flush of red on his face betrayed him.

"Deputy Director Blunt," Ian greeted formally. "What's going on?"

Blunt turned very serious at his words. He straightened and beckoned Ian to follow him. As they walked, he explained, "Director Walten is at the Command Center. We've received intel that one of our agents is being targeted. We're trying to put out a message, but so far, no luck."

"Who is it?" Ian asked roughly as their elevator shuddered to a halt.

 _Ding!_

"Uh," Blunt fumbled for words as they stepped out of the elevator, "Well, I-I... You're not going to like this..."

His response was enough to let Ian know exactly who the agent was. He broke into a run, leaving Blunt behind.

"Where is he?" Ian snarled as he burst into the Command Center, "Where's John?"

"Agent Rider, please!" Director Walten snapped, almost absentmindedly as he leaned over one of the tech agents – Smithers, Ian believed.

On the giant screen in front of them, there was a grainy image of a small plane, moving in short intervals.

"His cellphone is off," Smithers informed them, "Something is jamming the radio to the pilot. I'm working on that now-"

"Work faster!" Ian growled, his eyes glued to the screen.

It was painful, waiting for something to break through. Ian paced around the room, looking over the techs' shoulders and making pitiful noises in the back of his throat.

"I got it!" Smithers shouted after twenty minutes of painful pacing and waiting. He typed something and began speaking urgently into his mic, "Attention, Flight Two-Oh-Six-Fi-"

There was no noise from the screen, but Ian could still see the plane. He watched as a bomb – he couldn't tell where it had originated – ripped its way through the plane. Fire licked its way through the body of the plane. There was a second explosion, caused by the gasoline igniting.

Ian couldn't do anything to stop the horror of the destruction. As he watched the plane disintegrate before his very eyes, he knew there was no chance John or Helen was still alive.

There was nothing anyone could do to drown out the younger agent's wail of grief.

* * *

 **A/N:** I decided to do a bunch of little drabble-like works all in one place. I barely have time to write much except for little, short things like this. Anyway, I hope you liked! Review and include any requests! Thanks, guys!

-Alice


	2. Chapter 2

Drabble 2

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ALEX RIDER**

Request: Unwanted questions (-ish. I kind of started out with that intention before branching off to something else, haha)

* * *

Alex didn't really have any friends after Tom left Brookland Comprehensive. He had some admirers, sure, some attempted friendships that always ended badly, but never any real friends.

He was sixteen, nearing seventeen, living with Ben Daniels, a fellow spy. They weren't very close because Alex had only met Ben twice before: once during SAS selection and once during a mission. They had developed a comfortable relationship in which they would only ever see each other in the mornings and during dinner time.

School was a bore without any friends. Though Alex frequently missed class, he remained at the top of his class, something that Alex always told Jack, Ian, and his parents when he visited their graves.

He was mostly left alone at school, but he always felt a pair of suspicious eyes on his back. It was easy to see who they were from. Alex often met the boy's eyes to challenge him, something that was not easily missed.

Andrew Smith, also known as King of Brookland, was a popular jock that had taken over Alex's position after he'd been kicked off of the football team. He usually stayed away from Alex, but every once in a while, Alex would catch Andrew's thoughtful gaze on him.

A few times, Alex was positive that Andrew would approach him and ask some kind of nosy question, like many of his other classmates did, but the other teen would stop and sigh, shaking his head to himself. He would mutter something too, but Alex could never hear him.

They sat next to each other in maths. It was a surprise at first because no one ever liked to sit next to him. Even the nicest students would keep away from him, hoping not to tarnish their spotless reputations.

It was, however, spoiled when Andrew's nagging girlfriend followed him. Alex couldn't sit through maths without grinding his teeth in simple fury.

He was there now, sighing at Kristen's whine of, "Why did we have to pick _this_ spot? Josh is sitting over there. Why can't we sit with him? Why can't we leave the little drug lord alone?"

Alex didn't bother to defend himself. No matter what he said, it was useless. Whatever came out of his mouth was usually distorted within seconds and used against him.

"Just leave it, Kris," Andrew replied tiredly, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve.

Kristen obviously didn't like the blatant disregard, "Why do _you_ sit here, anyway?" She snapped at Alex, her voice very tight, "Go somewhere else — back to your gang. Or even better, with your dead family!"

It was a low blow, Alex thought to himself as he tightened his grip on his pencil and pointedly turned away. It was the best way to deal with a bully like Kristen. She wanted attention, something that Alex would not give.

"Where do you go all the time?" Kristen's voice had taken a venomous quality, "You can't be sick all the time. No one's dumb enough to buy your excuses."

Alex tried to tune her out. He just wanted class to start.

"You've heard the rumors," Kristen pressed, leaning over his desk, her perfectly manicured fingernails tapping impatiently, "Come on. Tell us if they're true."

It seemed like the whole room had turned their attention on him, even the teacher, who was in the midst of copying a complicated equation onto the board.

"Sit down, Kristen," Andrew muttered through gritted teeth.

' _Yes, please do,'_ Alex couldn't help but snark in the back of his mind.

"We're all wondering, Rider. Why don't you just tell us, so that we can stop bothering you?" Kristen's eyes flashed, "Where do you go all the time? What happened to your uncle? What happened to _Jack?"_

Jack was popular among those who knew her, and not many people forgot her once they had met her. She'd come in once for a presentation when Alex was still in primary school.

Alex finally looked at her squarely, "I don't think it's any of your business."

It was silent for a long minute.

"Miss Hiller, if you would return to your seat. Class is starting," the teacher broke the eerie atmosphere with a stern voice.

As the teacher began to talk, pointing out different components of the math equation, Andrew leaned over, a friendly, but small smile on his face, and his eyes a little sad.

"Sorry about Kristen," he whispered, so softly that Alex had to strain to hear him. His brown eyes seemed so old that Alex had to wonder if he really did comprehend his situation, "She just doesn't understand."

"Understand?" Alex questioned, eyebrows raised. How could anyone understand?

"You know... People like us," Andrew's small smile slipped from his face. He leaned even closer, speaking even more quietly, "We've lost so much, and we have so much more yet to come."

Alex watched, eyes wide, as Andrew withdrew again, turning to the lesson. He wondered, spinning his pencil around his thumb, if Andrew really did know.

Watching as the boy ruffled his hair in an agitated manner, Alex nodded to himself. Maybe he'd keep the boy around a little longer.

* * *

 **A/N:** So, yeah. I hope you liked! Leave some more requests, if you can think of any! Please keep in mind that I might not get to your request, or that I might not choose to write it. I hope you guys understand, haha. If you know me at all, you probably know that I am a very sporadic writer, lol.

Anyway, thank you for all of your wonderful reviews and keep sending requests! Love y'all!

-Alice x


	3. Chapter 3

Drabble 3

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ALEX RIDER. I DO NOT OWN "Harlem" BY LANGSTON HUGHES.**

Request: A glimpse into an evil genius' mind

* * *

"Look at them!" His voice was low and raspy due to many years of smoking. He glared down imperiously at the people below him, swarming around the buildings like frantic ants. He liked to watch them frequently because they reminded him of why he did what he did.

" _They are festering sores, sir,"_ said his AI, Mr. Mammal. Mr. Mammal was his best creation, and he often liked to just sit there and marvel at its beautiful existence.

Mr. Mammal was programed to respond to him with something that would please him immensely, and he hadn't failed yet. Everyday, Mr. Mammal was sure to remind him of the little pests below. He had to get rid of half of the population, fast, and enslave the others.

He had great plans. He always had great plans. He hadn't been foiled yet, though he had had a close friend with similar goals. She had been caught by some kind of secret service, and now he didn't know where she was. It was unfortunate – but that meant that he had less competition, which was always a good thing.

"Disgusting," he spat, turning away from the window.

" _They are raisins,"_ Mr. Mammal agreed, " _dried up in the sun."_

He gasped a little as the years of smoking caught up with him, and he had to bend over, clutching a table's edge.

" _They stink like rotten meat,"_ Mr. Mammal assured him.

He laughed at that, coughing as he did so. Once his rasping coughs had subsided, he commanded, "Tell me about part one of our plan. Did you remember to put it in effect tomorrow?"

" _Yes, sir,"_ Mr. Mammal replied in a metallic tone, " _Part One of Operation Dream Deferred will be put into action tomorrow, at 7:37 AM. At this time, all signals will be jammed, including television, radio, and cell phones. Your message will be displayed for all the heathens in the common vernacular."_

He hummed in appreciation, easing himself into a squishy couch by the window. He looked down, very imperiously once more, "Very good, Mr. Mammal, very good."

" _Then, they will explode, sir,"_ Mr. Mammal continued.

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, before he nodded, "Of course. I had forgotten. We must wipe out one-half of the population."

" _Would you like to hear your bedtime story, sir?"_ Mr. Mammal questioned, almost petulantly.

He nodded slowly, closing his eyes, "Proceed."

It took a moment for Mr. Mammal to find the file, but as soon as he did, he began to speak, in his droning, metallic, oddly soothing voice:

" _What happens to a dream deferred?_

 _Does it dry up_

 _like a raisin in the sun?_

 _Or fester like a sore—_

 _And then run?_

 _Does it stink like rotten meat?_

 _Or crust and sugar over—_

 _like a syrupy sweet?_

 _Maybe it just sags_

 _like a heavy load._

Or does it explode?"

By the time Mr. Mammal was done his bedtime story, he had already sunk into a deep sleep, filled with little raisins and festering sores. The ants of the world would be his soon, and he grinned in his sleep.

 _Then, they will explode._

* * *

 **A/N:** So, I'm not sure if this was what the request was looking for, haha, but here you go! As a reminder: leave tons of requests! I'll try to get to the ones that I think I can write well (and of course, I'll try to get to the ones that don't speak to me as well. No promised that they'll be published though, lol).

Thank you all for your awesome support! MWAH!

-Alice x


	4. Chapter 4

Drabble 4

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ALEX RIDER**

Request: K-Unit finds out Alex is a normal teenager

* * *

"We're off to see the Cubby," Eagle sang cheerfully in the back of the car, next to a disgruntled Snake, "the wonderful super-cool-teenage-spy-guy-with-crazy-ninja-skills of MI6!"

Wolf, who was driving, huffed impatiently. Armadillo, the fourth and newest member of K-Unit, groaned aloud from beside him.

"How much longer?" Snake sighed, leaning forward to peer at the GPS.

"Only ten minutes," Wolf replied, trying his best not to just let go of the wheel and strangle his unit-mate. They were best friends, of course, but sometimes, the younger soldier made Wolf want to rip his eyes out.

"Do you think Cub had a cool underground base?" Eagle asked no one in particular.

"No," Snake rolled his eyes. There was a brief moment where there was pure silence – bliss! – before Snake continued, a childish gleam to his eyes, "but I bet he has a secret door in his room. Probably leads to his secret surveillance room."

The rest of K-Unit couldn't tell if he was serious or if he was just trying to appease Eagle, but the others suddenly felt compelled to share their sneaking suspicions about their favorite spy.

"He probably has a room full of handy gadgets," Armadillo turned around excitedly to participate in the conversation.

Wolf frowned at them in the rearview window, "Don't be idiots. He has to have an indoor shooting range – only that it's hidden, so no stranger can randomly walk in and arm themselves."

"What do you think he does all day?" Eagle questioned excitedly, "I bet he spends his time training. How can anyone be like _him_ without training hard?"

By that time, K-Unit had reached Cub and Fox's house. It was a cozy, small house that looked like a cute dollhouse. There was no activity, from what K-Unit could see, except for the opened window on the second floor. Music seeped out – classical music.

K-Unit exchanged uneasy glances before trooping to the front door. It was jerked open roughly.

"Hi guys," Ben Daniels – Fox – grinned happily at them from the inside of the house. He was drenched in what looked like pink dye and doused with delicate, white fluff.

"What happened to you?" Wolf asked, eyeing his former unit-mate. Though he was drenched in dye – did it smell like fish oil? – and fluff, Fox looked unconcerned for his health.

"Alex has me doing these exercises to help me stay more alert," Fox explained, grinning again, "Come in, by the way. He's upstairs, if you wanted to see him."

There was an unanimous agreement to go see their youngest unit-mate first, and K-Unit stomped up the stairs, Eagle, for once, leading the charge.

"Cubby!" Eagle cried, as they reached his room. The music, the whole of K-Unit was rubbish at identifying what it was, was its loudest at this point.

A teenage boy, angelic in his appearance, looked up curiously as K-Unit bounded in. He was sitting at his desk, gripping a pencil in his right hand. In his left, he was holding an uneaten cheese stick.

"Hey Cub," the other greeted cautiously.

Eagle had no tact. He made his way next to Alex, asking, "Hey Cub! What 'chu doin'? Is that some kind of super weapon in disguise? It's a very good disguise. Did Smithers make it? And what's that? Is it some kind of flash drive? Cub, you're so _cool!_ "

Cub gaped at Eagle, who had snatched the pencil out of his hands and was examining it fervently.

"That's just a regular pencil, Eagle," Cub said slowly, pulling the pencil out of Eagle's hands.

"Do you have a secret room?" Armadillo asked, pacing the perimeter of the room, glaring at all the possible crevices where a secret door might be hidden.

" _Guys!"_ Cub shouted, leaping up and shooing K-Unit out, "I'm trying to do my _homework!"_

He slammed the door and locked it, sufficiently irritated. Outside, K-Unit glanced at each other, unconvinced.

"Come on, guys!" Fox called them down, "I have pizza!"

Unbeknownst to K-Unit, Cub gently set his pencil down with a sigh of relief, into a small bin labeled 'DANGEROUS'. He crossed the room in long strides to the poster at the head of his bed. He fixed it, sighing again in relief, as he covered the small button with the poster of his favorite football team.

He flopped onto his bed, "That was a close one..."

* * *

 **A/N:** Yes, no? Anyway, you know the drill! Thanks for your awesome reviews and support!

-Alice x


	5. Chapter 5

Drabble 5

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ALEX RIDER. ANYTHING YOU RECOGNIZE (including a modified quote at the end) DOES NOT BELONG TO ME.**

Request (that I spiced up a little, sorry): Narrowly avoided cliché at Brookland ft. dead people

* * *

Alex wasn't sure whether or not to be exasperated as he was hustled inside the auditorium by an impatient teacher. No one seemed to mind this, but Alex figured it was because they got to miss their first class. For him, that was maths, and he couldn't help but join them in their silent rejoice.

He found a seat in the back, away from prying eyes and curious teenagers, who gave him strange looks every time he passed by. He spotted the back of Tom's head in the front of the auditorium, but decided against calling for him. It was better that Tom made some new friends, anyway. Alex knew he was a target and anyone near him was a target too.

It took a while for the teenagers to settle down, but a hush swept over the crowd as the headmaster took his place at the podium.

Alex didn't pay attention. Not really, anyway. He let the headmaster's words enter one ear and out the other, only listening for anything that might be of an importance.

It was only when Mr. Bray had stopped speaking that Alex realized something was amiss. It was only then that he felt it.

The hair on the back of his neck rose as he registered the cold barrel of a gun resting on the back of his head, almost comfortably. Alex froze, his heart and his senses suddenly going into overdrive. What was he going to do? How was he going to get out of this one?

"Hello, little Alex."

The voice was silky to the ear and soft enough that only Alex could hear him. The Russian lilt was enough to inform Alex that this man and his gun was someone familiar. Unfortunately, "familiar" didn't mean the same thing as "not a threat".

" _Yassen._ "

Alex's voice was a whisper, but it still cut through the silence of the auditorium. When had the students stopped breathing? When had they all turned to look at him?

"Follow me, little Alex," Yassen spoke into his ears with a strong sense of urgency. "No one has to get hurt."

Alex furrowed his eyebrows. It didn't make sense, this strange appearance. Yassen. Alex had seen the man's life slip away before his very eyes. He was sure. He was very sure that Yassen was... "You're supposed to be dead."

This seemed to shock the life back into the few students around the two blondes.

Yassen chuckled softly, a hand snaking its way onto Alex's shoulder. His hand was deathly cold, and he gripped Alex hard enough to make his eyes water.

"Get up. We're leaving," he hissed, " _now."_

Obediently, and afraid that the assassin would break his shoulder, Alex stood, moving mechanically with Yassen. The cool barrel accompanied him as he was ushered out of the auditorium.

No one tried to stop them.

Once they were out of the school, the weight of the cool metal disappeared, and Alex whipped around, "Yassen, what-"

Behind him, a man grinned easily at him – a man that was most certainly not Yassen Gregorovich. Instead, Ian Rider stared at him, a fond, familiar smile on his face. Alex's heart tightened at the sight of him. This definitely couldn't have been real.

"Why aren't you home?" Ian scolded, "Jack's worried – again. You know how it is. She's going to skin you alive when you get back!"

Alex looked around, bewildered. Jack wasn't alive. Alex had seen her die. He'd seen her car blow up into bits, hadn't he?

"Come on," Ian put an arm around Alex. "John and Helen are there too. They've been wanting to meet you for a while."

"John and Helen?" Alex questioned, though a part of him suddenly realized exactly who they were.

Ian grinned again, "Yeah! Your parents."

Alex stopped in his tracks, screwing his eyes tightly shut, "Dammit, I'm making up things again! This isn't real. You're all dead an-and... this is all happening inside my head!"

There was a moment of silence, in which Alex slowly relaxed his stiff muscles to peer about him. He met Ian's steady gaze, and though the grin had dropped off of his uncle's face, the warmth and affection was still there.

"Of course this is all happening inside your head, 'Lex," Ian put a warm hand on Alex's shoulder, "But why on earth would that mean it isn't real?"

* * *

 **A/N:** So of course you figured out that the last quote is from Harry Potter. I was reading through this just now and figured that it's a piece of trash, but I'm just going with it because why not. Anyway, thanks for all the reviews and suggestions! I tried writing a couple of them, but they just didn't work out for me, so you're stuck with this piece of poop. Haha, leave more requests if you'd like, and I'll try my very best to get to it!

-Alice


	6. Chapter 6

Drabble 6

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ALEX RIDER**

 **A/N:** A couple people were confused at the end of the last one, but it's totally open up for interpretation. I personally thought of it as everything happening in Alex's head (i.e. him hallucinating while at a mental institution), BUT take it any way you want!

Request (whoops, I didn't write anyone's request this time): K-Unit takes in a stray

* * *

"I _promise_ I'll take care of him," the whine in Eagle's voice was evident as he gazed pleadingly at Wolf, whose decision remained unchanged as he glared back. Eagle continued, eyes wide with ernest, "I'll take him out every day, and he won't make any messes that you have to clean up. And I'll train him up and everything! He'll be the best pet ever!"

Wolf's face remained impassive, "No. We are not getting a puppy. We're not getting a cat. We're not getting even a fish! Don't you remember what happened last time?"

Eagle had the decency to look ashamed at his words. From behind the pair, there was a snort of undisguised laughter, and the two soldiers turned to glare — with equal ferocity — at the red-haired, Scottish man.

"What?" Snake was on the defensive as the two glared at him. "I was there. I remember."

On the other side of the room, Armadillo smothered laughter too, "Eagle, you'd make _us_ take care of your pet. I don't think it's a good idea."

Eagle pouted at that. Out of the whole unit, Armadillo was usually the one to support Eagle's more radical ideas.

"What if we find a stray?" Eagle questioned. "There's no way you can just deny someone who needs a home."

Wolf frowned at the blonde-brown haired soldier with an intensity that caused the other occupants in the room to shudder. He relented after a moment, "Fine," he continued before the other man could celebrate, "but _only_ if this stray comes right to our _doors._ We are _not_ going to go and search for one."

 _BANG!_

The door shuddered as an angry fist slammed into the wood. The soldiers' reactions were immediate. Four guns were pointed towards the door in less than a second, but the person beyond the door had no idea what was waiting within. The person knocked harder, shouting hoarsely, "Let me in! Fox sent me!"

K-Unit exchanged cautious glances. Only the SAS knew each other's code names, even if one of the soldiers had turned into a spy. Wolf was the first to move. He jerked open the door, gun still pointed menacingly at the visitor.

"He said this was a safe house," the man said, clutching his side in a way that let K-Unit know he had been hurt. As Wolf let him in, the soldiers caught sight of the blood, even before the man was falling, dizzy with blood loss.

Snake was there in a flash, breaking the man's fall. The man's field training kicked in, and he shouted, "Someone get me my kit!"

There was no doubt where he first aid kit was, and Eagle was already moving towards the small bag stored safely by the windowsill.

"Hey, hey," Snake said to the man as he struggled to stop the blood flow, "Stay awake. Wolf, please—"

There was no need for more words. Wolf dropped by the man's side, "Hey, kid. Tell me your name."

"'M not a kid," the blonde-haired man mumbled back. He certainly did, up close. He had soft features, much like one of a young boy's.

Wolf looked dubious, "Right. Tell me your name. Why did Fox send you here?"

The boy seemed to struggle to keep his eyes open. He convulsed in pain as Snake did something to his abdomen.

"My name's..." he paused, thinking, "Alex. Ben sent me here if I ever needed help 'cause he said you'd help."

Alex sounded loopy. From the kid's side, Snake pointed at the needle that he had just injected the kid with, "Just to help with the pain. He's been shot. It missed all of his organs, thank God, but it's bound to hurt."

The rest of K-Unit turned to the boy — he clearly had to be a boy at this point — who had a sloppy smile on his face. His eyes followed Wolf's face, and he said heartily, "You look handsome when you make that face."

He passed out promptly after that. The other three members of K-Unit laughed at Wolf's expression, but sobered quickly as Snake said, "We have to move him."

They managed to make it to their couch (Wolf groaned a little about the blood that was going to get on it).

"Does he look a bit familiar to you?" Eagle questioned, looking down at the peaceful, angelic face.

The other three crowded around the boy.

"No," Armadillo was the first to speak, "Not at all."

"Yes," Snake said at the same time, moving even closer, "Is that... Cub?"

Wolf leaned closer too to inspect the boy's face. His features morphed into a scowl, "That's him. Little Double-Oh-Nothing."

No one mentioned it, but the once derogatory nickname seemed affectionate, coming from Wolf's mouth.

It remained silent for a long moment as the four watched the unconscious boy. He slept peacefully, the same sloppy smile on his face.

"Hey," Eagle said slowly, leaning backwards again, "You know, why would Cub come here? He must be a stray..."

There was another long pause as the other three unit-members turned to face him, two with a thoughtful look on their faces, while the last had a horrified expression plastered to his face.

Eagle suddenly jerked forward onto Wolf, sending them crashing down onto the floor. He gripped his unit leader around the waist, pleading and shouting all at once, " _Can we keep him?_ "

* * *

 **A/N:** This took a little bit longer to come out because I couldn't figure out how to make some of the requests work for me, lol. Anyway, thanks everyone for the reviews and feedback from the last drabble! Please send in more requests if you think of any!

-Alice x


	7. Chapter 7

Drabble 7

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ALEX RIDER**

Request: A continuation of Drabble 6. Alternatively known as K-Unit has a pet

* * *

" _Hereee, Cubby, Cubby,"_ Eagle crooned as he held out a plate of food. In the background, Wolf snorted loudly, shoveling food into his own mouth. Snake lounged on the couch, cleverly avoiding the old blood spatter, and Armadillo was reading a _The Great Gatsby_ with a giant grin on his face.

"Leave him alone, Eagle," Snake called, his Scottish accent sharp, "You're just going to scare him away from his food."

Eagle frowned at this, setting the plate of food down on the ground. He backed away, looking helplessly at Snake, "What do I do?"

Snake sighed, "Give him some time, Eagle. He needs time to get adapted to his new environment."

At this, all four of the soldiers glanced over at the small figure underneath the dinner table, looking up at the closest man with wide, puppy-dog eyes.

"You always know what to do," Eagle pleaded, looking at the red-haired soldier in ernest. "Just coax him out. Please?"

Sighing, Snake pushed his way off of the couch, ignoring Wolf's sigh of annoyance and Armadillo's smothered laugh.

"Come here, little Cub," Snake soothed, holding out a hand. The figure shrunk away before relaxing, realizing that Snake had no intention of hurting him. "That's it, Cub. Good boy!"

The figure had crawled out completely, tail wagging as he crawled into Snake's lap and sniffed the man's legs all over. The puppy was a fluffy white ball — a Pomeranian. His eyes were large and black, reflecting everything the little dog could see.

With a little more coaxing, the puppy devoured his food as the rest of the unit watched in silence, entranced by the fragile stray in their midst.

"That's a good boy! Good boy, Cubby! Good boy!"

DRABBLE*7

It had been a month since K-Unit had found the stray puppy, and 'Cub' had been fitting in well. Every night, the white fluff-ball would jump in one of his owners' beds, and the next day, he'd be gone, causing mischief and mayhem.

"No! Cub, no! You can't eat that!"

It was Eagle's voice that morning that woke up the rest of the household. It was a normal occurrence now, but it seemed to happen to Eagle the most because he liked to keep his belongings on the floor.

" _Cubby!"_

Wolf, Snake, and Armadillo exchanged looks as they stood in the living room, watching as Eagle chased Cub around. The puppy was trotting along happily with his tiny legs, carrying a pair of boxers in his equally as tiny mouth. It was a rather comic sight.

Though Eagle and Cub were quite loud, the three unoccupied soldiers' senses were on high alert, and it didn't take them by surprise when the door was unlocked from the outside.

 _Click_.

The door handle was turned, and the blonde-haired teenage spy burst in, slamming the door shut behind him. His hair was tousled like he had been running for a little, and he was panting heavily.

" _Cubby,_ get back here! When I get my hands on you—"

Alex caught his breath, looking up questioningly at the other members of K-Unit. At that time, Cub had decided to make his grand entrance by trotting — and tripping — his way into the living room, Eagle hot on his tail.

" _Cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuub!"_ Eagle scampered after him.

Alex could only watch, open mouthed, as the pair of boxers caught on a door stop. Undaunted, the puppy tugged, and when it didn't come loose, he tugged harder and harder until—

 _Riiiiip._

"Cub! Bad boy!" Eagle snatched up the half of the boxer that had been left behind. "CUB! Get back here!"

Alex blinked, bewildered, but a moment later, he shrugged. Just another day in the K-Unit household, then, he mused. No matter how crazy these soldiers were, no matter how dysfunctional they could be—

Alex wouldn't trade them for anything.

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope you liked. I'm actually exhausted right now, so I'll make this short! Thanks for all the reviews and support! And as always, send in more requests. I'll try to get to them.

ON ANOTHER NOTE: I tweeted Anthony Horowitz about fanfiction, AND GUYS, HE RESPONDED. IUDFHLDKHFIUWERHLEB

-Alice x


	8. Chapter 8

Drabble 8

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ALEX RIDER**

Request: A normal day at the bank

* * *

"Dammit!" Lily cursed under her breath as she splashed a bit of hot tea onto her hand. She didn't stop to wipe it off, and instead, scampered towards the large, intimidating bank. She worked there for a few years, but she still felt dread as she entered the Royal and General.

Lily was a special person, even by her world's standards. She was technically a spy, though it wasn't like anything in the movies. Sure, there were spies that liked to run around on building rooftops and crazy computer prodigies hacking secure sites, but Lily spent her days in an office, making up stories. To put it in simpler terms, she made up MI6 agent's cover stories, and she was damn good at it too.

At the front desk, Lily forked her I.D. over to the receptionist, who carefully examined it before nodding and letting her in.

Lily blew red strands of hair out of her face, making her way to the stairs. The blasted elevators weren't working _again_ apparently. At least this way, she would get some exercise.

At this, she paused, one foot suspended above a step. Did she really just think that? Gosh, it was going to come back and bite her in the ass sooner or later.

Sure enough, by the fourth flight, Lily was panting, her legs burning. The tea in her supposedly sealed thermos was sloshing around dangerously, threatening to spill at every stair that she ascended.

"I really hate working here," Lily muttered to herself as she began the slow trek upwards again. Only a couple (more like six) more flights left.

By the time she reached her office, Lily was completely fed up with MI6, and it was barely eight in the morning. More tea had sloshed over her hands than she was ever going to drink. Thankfully, it wasn't hot anymore (due to the malfunctioning thermos). Lily huffed, dumping out her tea in a potted plant's pot. She'd have to get coffee instead, she supposed.

Once she had gotten her coffee ("- _no cream, no sugar! That's for wimps-"),_ Lily settled down, opening the laptop before her. It was a beautiful laptop in her opinion. It might have been the only plus of working at MI6 besides the fabulous pay. Lily knew the maker of the laptop, Smithers, who was now a close friend. Sometimes, the man would call her just to gather some ideas on how to improve his gadgets, which was very nice. The gadget-master and the cover-specialist had to communicate somehow.

Lily smiled as she reached for the pile of folders that she had found on her desk. She never found out who gave her the folders, but there was always a small pile on her desk. That much alone would take her the whole day to get through. She wasn't called the best of the best for nothing. Her work was thorough and ideal for undercover work or long-term undercover work.

She took the first folder, examining the information clearly. This agent was one of her favorites because his age let her imagination roam freely. He popped up on her desk frequently, and Lily assumed that he must be a big deal, even if he only was sixteen.

Lily spent the next thirty minutes reading the mission file, biting her lower lip thoughtfully. It took another hour and a half for her to type up a plausible sob story, which she grinned all throughout.

 _Ring! Ring!_

It was lucky that she had just finished with his file, otherwise, she would have lost her mojo. When that happened, she had to start all the way back at the beginning again.

"Yep?" Lily said into the receiver, quickly saving the _Harry Potter_ fanatic, horseback riding lover onto her laptop.

"Hey Lils," the voice was quite clearly Smithers', "D'you mind coming down for a minute? I have something to show you, and it's important."

Lily frowned, but accepted the invitation. She supposed she could spare the time to go down, provided that the elevators were working again.

She quickly shut off her laptop and slid out of her room, locking the door behind her.

The elevators weren't too far away from her office, so she could clearly see the sign that read: _OUT OF ORDER._

She groaned.

An hour later—half an hour had been contributed to walking up and down eleven flights of stairs—Lily was back in her room, groaning from the sheer amount of _stairs_ she had to climb.

 _Ring ring!_

Lily eyed her phone wearily, but answered nonetheless, "Hello?"

" _Hey Lily!"_ A chipper voice greeted her, " _Does your offer still stand? I'm in the lobby right now, and I can't lift all this stuff by myself."_

Lily suppressed the urge to groan, "Yeah, sure. I'll be right down."

She was positively exhausted after helping her fellow agent. The man had to move crates of informations, making not one, not two, but _three_ trips up and down the stairs to level seven.

Lily collapsed at her desk. The coffee from earlier was cold, sitting innocently in the corner of her desk. She could feel a headache coming on, and she wearily grabbed a second folder to read.

 _Ring ring!_

This time, she did groan aloud in agony before answering, "Yes?"

" _Agent Barium? It's Jones. Can I see you in my office?"_

When Lily hung up, she let out a muffled scream of frustration, "I _really_ hate working here!"

* * *

 **A/N:** Yay! Back at writing these drabbles/one-shots! I'm trying to go through some old requests right now, but if you have any new ones, or if you have any you _REALLY_ want to see, put them in a review! If I didn't write one that you previously requested, it might be a good idea to "resubmit" them, just so I can see/re-read them. It's been a while, lol. ANYWAY, thanks for your awesomeness and support!

And yes. I named her Agent Lily Barium. After Lily Potter... and the element.

-Alice x


	9. Chapter 9

Drabble 9

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ALEX RIDER**

Request: Demons

* * *

She never associated much with the lower class—the plebeians—of society at Brookland Comprehensive. It wasn't like she was _against_ being friends with them or anything, but she never had the chance or the motivation to talk to any of them. After all, Olivia Faust had better things to do than to lower her thoughts to a simpleton's ideas.

Olivia didn't have many friends. It wasn't hard to see why, nor did she let it deter her from her end goal: winning. Perhaps it was foolish to think that life was a race—a race for success and knowledge. She didn't care if it was silly to her other classmates.

Plodding forward with slow, silent steps, Olivia settled in a corner of the library. It was her favorite spot. She preferred the quiet and solitude as opposed to the harsh, rambunctious celebration in the cafeteria.

There was something that thrilled Olivia, right to the core, when she would eat her lunch in the placid library. It was forbidden to take food in fear that the school's precious books would be ruined, but Olivia was always careful. It was in her nature to be meticulous. There were no crumbs left on the table when she left. There was no sign, no indication, that she had ever been there.

Olivia withdrew the first book from her backpack. It was a classic novel that she was currently reading and writing an analytical essay on. It didn't make her the happiest of people—she often got tired of the droning words and the monotonous tone—but she kept going because that's what her English teacher expected of her. It was the same with the extra work that the rest of her teachers put on her, sensing the zealous affinity she had for learning. As Olivia flipped a page of the book, she bit her lip, her thoughts leaving the finely printed words on the page. This wasn't learning. It was just extra work to keep her busy.

And God, it was making her so, _so_ tired.

Not in the physical sense when she didn't get enough sleep the previous night. No. This was something that originated from her very essence, spreading from the very marrow of her bone, outwards. It coursed through her veins, infecting her slowly, turning her hard and sad.

Didn't anyone understand how _hard_ it was to keep up her reputation? She had to _stay_ ranked at number one or else she wouldn't win. It wouldn't be acceptable.

She was slowly succumbing to the pressure that she had inadvertently pushed onto herself, and she wasn't sure she could survive it.

"Hello, may I sit here?"

Olivia had been so enraptured in her thoughts that she didn't see the six foot, blonde-haired boy stride over, a hand on the chair across from her. She knew this boy. Hell, who didn't? It was Alex Rider.

The two used to be mild acquaintances, friends even, but they had grown apart when Alex began disappearing and when Olivia heard about the drugs and the gangs.

"Sure," Olivia replied, moving a stray sheet of paper out of his way, "Go ahead."

She didn't look at Alex again for a long while, her mind slipping from his intimidating presence and back onto the book, which she couldn't understand. She took little bites of her peanut butter jelly sandwich, chewing mournfully.

Her inattention didn't go unnoticed by Alex, who merely sighed slowly, lifting his head. Olivia watched from the corner of her eye, fascinated by the elegance and the grace in which he moved.

"You can ask, you know," Alex sounded defeated as he closed up whatever textbook he had in front of him.

Olivia looked up, examining the boy's face. It was a lot darker than she'd remembered it. Darker in color, in expression, in everything. He had faint scars across his face. The most terrifying feature, however, was his eyes. Dark, dark brown with hints of exhaustion. She could see conflicting emotions writhe about in his irises, hate and coldness and more that Olivia couldn't identify. What was that emotion swirling in his eyes? It was something familiar—something she saw daily in someone else's eyes.

Death.

Alex Rider was dead on the inside, and Olivia saw it in herself every day. Of course, not to a large scale like Alex's, but when she looked in the mirror every day, she saw her soul, rotting away with no true purpose in life.

Olivia shook her head slowly, eyes sinking back to her book, "I have nothing to say to you."

Her words were cold and sharp, and to anyone else, they sounded biting. Before her, Alex deflated with something akin to relief. She was glad that her true meaning, that she would leave him alone, was conveyed properly.

There were some serious demons in his eyes, Olivia thought to herself as she packed up her books and prepared to leave for her next class. Her's was nothing compared to his. But, she supposed that if Alex Rider could handle his own demons, she could manage her own. After all, wasn't she far above the common pedestrian?

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for the reviews and feedback! I think you know the drill, so I won't repeat.

This was a bit dark, wasn't it? Idk if I like it, but it's something that I needed to get out of my system. To be honest, I feel really tired, and not the kind where you can go to sleep and everything is better, you know? I'm just really tired of always fighting to be exceptional, and no one listening when I try to tell them how I really feel. I guess it's like I bottled up all these dark emotions (apparently friends and parents don't want to see anything less than your happy self), and I needed an outlet...which it writing, by the way. So I hope this wasn't too bad! I guess I just wanted to tell you inadvertently that I'm fighting my own demons right now too. It's not just Olivia and Alex.

-Alice


	10. Chapter 10

Drabble 10

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ALEX RIDER**

Request: "The Talk" in _Almost All_ Dialogue. (100 words precisely!)

* * *

"Alex, come here for a minute!"

"What's wrong?"

"We need to have _The Talk_."

"What?"

"Alex, do you know how babies are made?"

"Yes...?"

"Okay, well I want you to forget all that you think you know."

"Why?"

"Because it's all been a lie. I'm going to tell you how babies are made."

"So it doesn't happen when a healthy egg meets the sperm?"

"No, the stork isn't—wait. What did you say?"

"Don't mummies and daddies have sexual intercourse to make a baby?"

Ian blinked, leaning back in his seat. Alex was a smart kid. Why was he surprised?

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for your support, guys! It's been rough, including everything that's happening nowadays. OKAY, so I wasn't going to rant, but I really can't hold it it. I'm a teenage girl, and teenagers have doubts and are self-conscious. So why is it that when I'm _finally_ okay with how I look—hair, body, _face—_ someone has to try to knock me down? It may have just been teasing, but I've said on multiple occasions _it's_ ** _not_** _okay._

Anyway, it just frustrates me, and I wanted to get it off my chest (because no one listens to me at home), but their comments don't and won't affect how I feel about myself! Just wanted to rant a little :P

You guys are awesome, and I don't even know how to thank you for supporting me through my rough patches! Leave more requests in the reviews!

-Alice xx


	11. Chapter 11

Drabble 11

 **Request:** Alex has a crush (sorry, the crush hardly makes an appearance)

* * *

"I don't know what to say to her," Alex said, kicking a pebble out of his way with the tip of his trainers. The gray stone bounced across the pavement, tumbling to a stop by another set of trainers—Tom's.

"Is the infamous _Alex Rider_ coming to _me_ for girl advice?" Tom gasped, clutching his heart in exaggerated shock. He dropped the expression almost immediately, kicking the pebble back with a grin. "Honestly, why don't you just _talk_ to her? It's the usual course of action, you know."

Alex's lips tugged themselves into a thoughtful frown. Shaking his head, he dismissed the thought. "That's not a good idea. I'm _not_ the kind of person anyone sane wants to get involved with." At Tom's pointed look, Alex rolled his eyes, "You know you're not sane, Harris."

"Maybe," the teen acknowledged slowly. "But you know I'm right. Just talk to her! If she doesn't like you for you, then what's the point in pining after her? And if she does like you, then you know you've got a shot!"

At Tom's last words, Alex deflated, his gaze slipping down to his feet.

"That's kind of a problem," the blond-haired boy said, voice quiet. There was a hard edge to his tone—a bitterness that a teen really had no business in knowing. "If I get close to her, what if _they_ use her against me? You forget that you're always in danger because of me."

'They' were MI6 and MI6's enemies, which basically encompassed everyone. It wasn't the most comfortable idea that Tom had to settle with since _knowing_ he was always watched wasn't a reassuring notion. Still, Tom didn't doubt Alex for a moment. Sure, there might have been that one time where he was shot in the hand in school, but if Alex hadn't been paying attention, Tom might have ended up with worse wounds than a bullet to his hand.

"I trust you." Tom was confident. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, lifting his chin to appear more commanding. "A simple 'hi' wouldn't make her a target, anyway."

"You'd be surprised," Alex muttered under his breath. The words weren't meant for Tom to hear, but the breeze carried his words further than he meant it to.

Tom's smile had long since dropped, and he was ready to beat the super-secret-agent over the head with a frying pan. Marching forth, he grabbed Alex's shoulders with his hands and shook him as hard as he dared. (Tom was fairly sure he was still recovering from some kind of wound).

"Are you a man or not?" he demanded. "If you don't say _something_ to that girl on Monday morning, I'm going to tell Cheryl the whole truth! Ha!"

Cheryl was the resident gossip collector and dealer. If Tom went to her, the 'rumor' would spread to everyone in less than an hour.

Alex gritted his teeth, glaring at his best friend, "You wouldn't."

To any outsider, it might've looked like he was about to attack Tom with a well placed headbutt, but Tom knew him too well to take the threat seriously. Instead, he nodded solemnly, "I would."

On Monday morning, Tom was very pleased to spot Alex give a quick 'hello' to a petite Asian girl, his cheeks flushing a brilliant red ( _"smooth, Alex")_ when the girl smiled back. Behind the scenes, Tom gave himself a well deserved pat on the back.

* * *

 **A/N:** For some reason, I'm was REALLY exhausted, writing this. It's just my own writing project is going kinda slow, so I thought I could try to rejuvenate my creative fruits by revisiting Alex Rider fanfics! Anyway, thank you all for being really patient and offering me kind words. Also, if you wanna feel my mood right now, go listen to "Waving Through a Window" from Dear Evan Hansen. It's such a good song and totally relatable (at least for me). Anyway, thank you all for your continued support to both my sporadic updating and to me as a person. 'dalekchung' wouldn't exist without you, so like, I'm going to give you all warm, happy hugs right now


End file.
